


Sun

by QueenOfNewOrleans22



Category: Young Guns (Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Light Angst, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:35:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23936950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfNewOrleans22/pseuds/QueenOfNewOrleans22
Summary: Chavez, Doc, Thoughts And The Sun.
Relationships: Jose Chavez y Chavez/Josiah "Doc" Scurlock
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	Sun

**Author's Note:**

> And If You Look To The Left, You'll See Two Pining, Gay Cowboys.

Doc Is The Sun. 

Bright, Shining. Beautiful and Important, Burning Hot. A Necessity to Life. Beauty and Grace and Calm in Its Purest Form. 

Legs Folded, His Tongue between His Teeth, His Hair falling into His Face. Doc was writing His Poetry, Pen scratching against Paper. His Hat was dipped low, His Eyes intent on His Prose. 

They were alone, as much as alone could be, sitting far from where Billy was trying, weakly, desperately, to rope Cattle and where Steve was teasing, sitting on The Fence. The Rest had gone off to do their own thing, Chavez didn't know, disappearing from eyesight, probably inside, cooling off, maybe. He didn't care, particularly, and neither did Doc, though that was more of a rough guess than actual knowledge. They didn't talk about stuff like that. They _couldn't_ talk about stuff like that, not with the realization of what They were doing, and how that would affect Tunstall and The Others, weighing them down. They couldn't talk without The Guilt of what might have happen if They were caught, to not only to Them, but to The Rest, becoming too much. 

"You're thinking, again." Doc said, softly, quietly, not looking up so much as a glance. The Statement seems a little hesitant, and Chavez looks at Him to try and discern a facial expression, but sees none, and only sighs. "Is that such a bad thing?" He asks, and Doc shrugs, stares at His Poem and looks displeased. _Displeasure. At What?_ Chavez doesn't, didn't, know, and perhaps will never know. Doc's business is His Business, though Chavez is a little proud when He thinks- ' _I know Him best.'_ Should He be? Should He be proud with The thought that He knows another Man with such intimacy, such closeness? That He has memorized Doc's Body, Face, Everything so well that He knows it like The backs of His Hands? That He knows every Scar, every Freckle? Chavez is a Proud Man, and only Doc can make Him weak in The knees. 

"We should head back soon." Chavez can see The Sun, and it's going down. It's halfway to The Mountains, and it'll only go lower, lower, until it'll be completely gone, replaced by The Glowing Moon, The Stars. Chavez, when He was a Child, used to love just staring at The Sky, Memorizing each bright light. 

"Don't You want to look at The Sun a little longer?" Doc asked. He had looked up This Time, His Eyes Bright in The Dim Light. 

"Why?" Chavez smiled. "I have my own, right here." 


End file.
